


Welcome to the Jungle

by agreatmanythings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Neighbors, Sexual Tension, Stripper AU, Stripper Han, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agreatmanythings/pseuds/agreatmanythings
Summary: Han is a stripper, and Leia is his furious neighbor who gets a lap dance.





	Welcome to the Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, Han and Leia have been one of my otps since childhood but I never thought of them in this way until I was waaay-too turned on by Alden Ehrenreich in Solo and I just had to get it out. This was also waaaay-too fun to write.

Chewie ran backstage, panting and smiling, just as Han zipped up his moto jacket. Beyond the towering, hairy man, clapping and cheers rolled past the curtain. 

“Got ‘em all warmed up for ya.” Chewie slapped Han’s shoulder abit roughly before brushing past him. 

“Han! You ready?” Through the dark walkway, Lando appeared, donning his usual silk cape and leather trousers. No shirt was necessary. “There’s a birthday girl, front row, wearing a tiara.” 

Han leaned forward and grabbed the motorcycle’s handles as he swung a leg over the seat. He turned back and flashed a grin at his boss. 

“Bring on the princess.”

 

\---

 

The stage dropped into darkness. Electric guitar cords shook as white strobe lights flickered with each echo. A curtain began to rise along the back of the set. A silhouette of a motorcycle and a man mounted on it was revealed. Cheers erupted as the guitar riffs continued and the music built into a climax, but the man remained still, resting casually with on hand on his hip, and his chin tilted down. Drums joined the crescendo. 

Suddenly, the man reached out to grasp one handlebar, and lifted himself just slightly off the seat. The opening lyrics to _“Welcome To the Jungle”_ broke through the music as the spotlight shot down and Han whipped his head towards the crowd. Screams exploded. With the handlebar as leverage, he began to deliberately thrust his hips forward over the body of the bike. As the song sped up, he switched and threw a leg over the bar, twisting himself towards the audience. The screaming continued. 

Yea, he could live for this validation. It did terrible things to his ego. 

Han bit his lip and glared into the shadowed crowd as he aggressively ripped the zipper down his moto jacket, revealing oiled skin stretched taut over pecs and abs he worked hard to achieve. As the bridge of the song came near an end, he slid a hand through his tousled waves, purposely exposing more skin. The chorus hit with a screech of _“Watch it bring your to your shun n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees! Knees!”_ and he marched ahead, a lazily yet fuckable sway to his stride. 

A plastic tiara glistened in the audience. Han pointed then gestured for her to join him with a predatorial tilt of his chin. The crowned silhouette stood and walked towards the stage. He offered a hand and pulled her into the spotlight. 

Wait, was that his … neighbor?

 

\---

 

Han chugged the remainder of orange juice, then slammed the carton onto the counter. No need to wash another glass. A thumping sounded against his front door. 

Squeezing his brows, he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, then walked across the apartment. A pair of boxer briefs hit his nose the second he opened the door. At least they smelled clean. 

“What is your problem, Asshole?” A young woman fumed before him, brown hair falling out of her bun in a frizz as she held an overflowing laundry basket. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re a grown-ass man! Get your shit together and stop throwing your filthy underwear with my clothes!” 

Han glanced down at the cloth in his hand. “Huh, these are mine.” 

“No shit, Sherlock! I barely have enough money as is, and I don’t need you using my coins to wash your stuff!” He studied the girl as she raged before him, bouncing her shoulders up and down in compensation for her hands gripping the basket. “Fucking look through the couch cushions or something, I don’t know! Just get your own damn quarters!” 

“Hey!” Han finally snapped, pointing an accusing finger, “I have money!” He worked two goddamn jobs and he wasn’t about to let some college girl take that away. 

“Then fucking act like it,” she hissed, then proceeded to dump the entire basket of laundry on the floor.

 

\---

 

Han couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that stretched across his lips. Here she was, the young, feisty neighbor who dumped his laundry on the floor and unknowingly left a thong in the mix, after chewing him out in his own apartment. And boy was she still pissed. The flames alone from her glare burned through his skull. It looked almost ridiculous, the murderous gleam in her eyes, paired with the plastic, pink tiara with a heart in the middle and the word _“Princess.”_

He was gonna enjoy this. 

Still holding her hand, Han shifted her highness to face the audience, as he let go then stalked behind her, tauntingly close to her back. He could drag teeth along the cuff of her ear if he wanted. But currently, he had more important things to do. 

Han whipped his jacket off, now utterly bare from the waist up, save for the bandanas tied around each bicep as the song screeched, _“Feel my, my, my, serpentine, I want to hear you scream!”_ The crowd loved it. The princess, did not. 

The guitar solo now raged and strobe lights replaced the spotlight and the filthy moans of Axl Rose echoed. Han bent down and scooped her highness into his arms like a bride, pressing her against his bare chest. Turning around, he stalked back towards the motorcycle, then walked around to stand behind it and dropped the princess down so her ass sat between the handlebars, backwards. Han grabbed a handle then swung one leg over the seat, positioning himself between her legs, face to face. He began to grind over the leather. 

He never actually thrust into her, but with his crotch hovering centimeters from her’s as the words, _“You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play,”_ screeched through the screams of the crowd, this was a pretty close compensation. But then the look in her eyes changed. 

The princess no longer glared- no, this was something else. Almost, provocative. As though she were daring him to impress her. A surge of adrenaline and arousal drove him on. 

How could he refuse a challenge? 

_“If you got a hunger for what you see, you’ll take it eventually.”_ Han leaned forward till his nose nearly touched her forehead and his breath pushed hot against her cheek as he continued to thrust. _“You can have anything you want, but you better not take from me.”_

The bridge of the song repeated, and he backed away, swinging a leg off the bike. Stalking around to stand behind her again, the princess sat somehow dignified, back straight yet head tilted just the slightest towards him. She cast a seductive side-eye. He hardly even needed the bundle down his pants anymore, this chick was spurring him on enough without ever truly touching him. 

Han yanked the bandanas off his arms then proceeded to tie them loosely, one around each of the princess’s hands as she held onto the bar. _“You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby!”_ Once finished, he resumed his place before her, this time standing with one foot on the seat, and the other beside her hip on the handlebar. He began to thrust his crotch a breath away from her face. Her highness looked up at him, and shrugged. 

She fucking shrugged. 

_I dare you to do more._

_“Welcome to the jungle, watch it bring you to your shun n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees! Knees!”_ Han shot a hand out and grabbed her hair, holding her even closer to his crotch. The princess stuck her nose out -an otherwise innocent move- and allowed the leather of his pants to scrape the tip. She smirked at the plushness of the bundle prop. Behind it, his actual cock throbbed. This princess was to be the death of him. 

_“It’s gonna bring you down!”_ The final guitar riff sounded, and the stage went black. Han jumped down from his stance, and deliberately reached across her body to undo the bandanas, till their noses hovered beside each other and his bare chest drew so very close to her breasts. 

“Not bad, Cowboy,” she whispered sultrily, “Too bad your dick is made of cloth.” 

“Han,” he corrected, “And trust me, my actual dick is made of much sturdier stuff.”

“Leia. And that's what they all claim, Cowboy.” 

Han leaned forward to brush his lips against her ear. “Happy birthday, Princess.”


End file.
